Good-By

Elizabeth Stuart Phelps Ward

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God be with you! through my losing
And my grieving, shall I say?
Through my smiling and my hoping,
God be with you, friend, to-day!


Somewhere, on a Shore of Silver,
(God be with you on the way!)
In a sunlight sifted richly
From a thousand skies of May,


In a dream of June's white roses,
In a chant of waters low,
In a glory of red maples,
A hush of moonlight upon snow,


In the meanings of the sunrise,
In the heart of summer rain,
In the soul of purple hazes,
We will not say good by again.


But the tears dash through my dreaming,
And the thing I fain would say
Falters into this,--this only:
God be with you till that day!

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